


Meet ur bf again at a hardware store and cry

by thedepartedsweetly



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: M/M, Michael faked his own death, Oop, bad and good ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedepartedsweetly/pseuds/thedepartedsweetly
Summary: Jeremy sees a familiar face.
Relationships: Michael Afton/Jeremy Fitzgerald
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	1. Bad Ending

Of course they’d run out of springs. And of *course* they’d send Jeremy to pick them up. And *of course* pretty much every hardware store was out of them so he ended up having to go almost three hours out of his way to some shady little shack in the middle of butt fuck nowhere to get more. He was tired, he was pissed, his arm hurt from leaning on his cane, and he just dropped his car keys in a mud puddle. 

Not for the first time that month, Jeremy debated the pros and cons of ditching Freddy’s and becoming a hermit in the woods as he wiped the mud off his hand on his jacket. 

The door let out a rather off key jingle, that matched the flickering lights and seemingly endless hallways of mechanical…stuff. God he was not cut out for this. “Hello?” He called, his voice echoing down the rows. A shop hand poked his head out, dressed in a garish blue smock. 

“Oh, hey dude.” His eyes did the expected and annoying sweep from Jeremy’s cane to the massive web of scar tissue across his forehead. Jeremy grit his teeth. No one ever asked about it, of course, why would they when they could just *stare.*

“Hi.” He ground out. “Looking for springs. Size 12?” 

“Oh uh…huh. Yeah I think we have those. Let me go ask Mike. Be right back.” It felt like a stab to the heart. Mike. Of *fucking course* there was someone named Mike at this store. Why the fuck not? His day was going so *wonderfully* already. The worker shuffled away, leaving Jeremy to lean against the wall miserably. At least he could rest his arm. He let his eyes close lightly. 

About twenty minutes had passed before “mike” came to talk to him. What an efficient and professional place. If they didn’t have the springs he wanted he will have wasted half an hour just standing here. 

“Uh…sir?” A voice asked. It was familiar, but…off. Something was not quite right. He couldn’t quite place it. He took his sweet time rolling out his neck and opening his eyes to glare sullenly at Mike. 

Oh, *fuck.*

Well his day had just gotten so much worse. The man *looked* like Him. That was what his voice had sounded like. That was why he was so familiar. He looked like Him, and Jeremy nearly sobbed out loud.

He had the same mousy brown hair, though it was short and swept away from his face. Same silvery eyes, same pale skin though it looked slightly rosier. He almost liked like…if He had gotten like…a decent diet and filled out a bit and was healthy and happy. Jeremy didn’t even realize how hard he was staring until Mike grinned awkwardly. 

“Sir? Are you okay?” 

“I…I…” he couldn’t speak. His mouth hung open, as it felt like a fucking knife was being twisted in his heart. 

“I have the springs you wanted.” 

“Michael?” Jeremy whispered, horrified. There was no magical flash of recognition in the other’s eyes. He just tilted his head.

“Um…no. Just Mike.” Suddenly he gasped. “Ooooh…right. Sorry. You must be thinking of Michael…er…Eaton?”

“Afton,” Jeremy corrected him. 

“Yeah that guy who disappeared?” He laughed awkwardly, before continuing to babble on. “Yeah, you won’t *believe* how many times I’ve been told we look similar. Anyway, I’ve got the springs you wanted,” he held them out to Jeremy. 

“You…I…um…” he shook his head. *No. Stop. Michael is dead. He’s been dead.* “Sorry, I have trouble recognizing people, you know,” he tapped the injury on his head. “Part of the package.” For just an instant, Jeremy swore he saw a flash of agony cross the man’s face before it smoothed back out into a pleasant smile.

“Sorry to hear that, James over there can check you out.” He turned to leave.

“Wait!” Jeremy called, suddenly desperate. “Can…can I see you again, when you’re off work?” The man’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t even turn around. *fuck, Jeremy must have said something wrong.*

“No. I don’t think we should. Especially not if I remind you of that guy. Can’t be good for the healing process or whatever.” And he was…gone.

He just left.


	2. Good Ending

“Michael?” Jeremy whispered, horrified. There was no magical flash of recognition in the other’s eyes. He just tilted his head. And when he angled his head *just like that* Jeremy could see the little freckle under his jaw. The one he’d kissed a million times. It felt like the floor was dropping out from under him. 

“Michael,” he repeated, his eyes flooding with tears. “*Michael…Michael*,” it was all he could do, repeat his name until it had no meaning. 

“I’m not-“ He tried to protest, but it was useless, Jeremy made his way over as quickly as he could with his cane the stupid thing got in the way. He tossed it aside and pulled him close, though he was now extremely off balance. It *was* Him, it felt like Him. Michael slowly melted into his arms. “Jeremy,” he murmured, almost worshipfully, as if his name was something magical. “Woah, shit!” Jeremy’s lets gave out, and they crumpled to the floor, Michael on top of him.

They stared at each other for a solid thirty seconds before Jeremy burst out half laughing, half sobbing. 

“H-how are you alive?” Jeremy choked, pushing himself up and gazing at his tear stained face. “You…you died, I though you were dead. I *mourned* for you,” try as he might, he couldn’t muster up any anger, not when Michael was right in front of him, safe and *alive.*

“I’m so sorry,” Michael sobbed. “I had t-to leave I couldn’t let you get hurt anymore an’ I-“ Jeremy cut him off effectively by pressing their lips together. Michael whimpered softly, locking his arms around him and holding Jeremy in a vise-like grip, desperately trying to get closer. 

As his vision began to black out, Jeremy pulled away panting, still not letting go of Michael, who was staring at him with a dazed smile on his face. “I didn’t expect this to be our reunion,” Michael admitted, gesturing around the shop and the rather gross floor they were sitting on.

“It’s ok,” Jeremy assured him. “It’s ok, you’re *here*. Come home with me,” he said suddenly. 

“What?” Michael looked shocked.

“Yeah, I have an apartment, come home with me. Please, I can’t…I can’t leave you now that I’ve just gotten you back.”

“Y-yes,” Michael said. “Yes! Ok, yeah!” He laughed, slightly hysterically; and crying again. “You’ve got me. I’m not…I won’t leave you.”


End file.
